The Monsters We Battle
by EyerishEyes
Summary: WIP-post Butterflied. Grissom, Sara, a few dead bodies, a "breakdown" and a painting. GS with UST.
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: The Monsters We Battle  
  
AUTHOR: MaryAnn Phillippe  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
PAIRING: Grissom/Sara  
  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst/Romance (eventually)  
  
FEEDBACK: This is my first time.so be gentle  
  
SPOILERS: Post "Butterflied"  
  
SUMMARY: A cult killing.a painting .G/S romance (eventually). Don't want to  
spoil anything.  
  
DISCLAIMER: They don't belong to me; take them out to play.YADA, YADA!  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: Gigantic thanks to my husband for kicking me in the butt and telling me it was about time I put my ideas down on paper, and to C.French (a co-worker) who loves to tell me that I am obsessed with Grissom and Sara, and of course my Betas Anne and Ash. Thanks you two. And Wynonna for the song "Heaven Help Me." (you'll understand in later chapters).  
  
The Monsters We Battle  
By: EyerishEyes (MaryAnn Phillippe)  
  
Well, at least now she knew.  
  
Sara Sidle stood in front of the one-way glass, arms crossed over her chest as if hugging herself, and looked at the one man she could ever love, the only man she could and would ever love. Gil Grissom.  
  
Young and beautiful.care about.I couldn't do it.  
  
Why? Why couldn't he do it. What was so wrong with her, anyway? He had once told her she was beautiful, in a round about sort of way. She had thought that there was something between them, something more than the years of friendship and trust. On her part, there was. She had looked forward to seeing him every evening, working along side him, testing his knowledge against her own.anything that meant she spend time with him. Anything that gave her an excuse to receive a "Grissom" smile or nod or wink. She relished those moments and tucked them away in her memory for later, times when he wasn't there.  
  
And lately those times were more and more frequent. When had it changed into a strictly "working relationship"? She didn't know when it had changed, only that it had. She hardly got paired with him on assignments anymore and needless to say, there was absolutely no more of the innocent flirting that they had been so good at. He didn't smile at her anymore, let alone talk. He hadn't even asked her how she was, following the explosion. But then again, neither had anyone else.  
  
She knew that the rest of the graveyard shift disliked her, maybe with the exception of Nick. Nick had been her best friend, her brother in spirit. And she knew that Nick had looked upon her as a little sister, having five older ones back home in Texas.  
  
But brothers often hated little sisters, even though they were family. And Nick had no blood ties to her. Lately he had been distant. He rarely called, except when they were working on a case, and he hadn't teased her and he wasn't talking to her like they had before.  
  
And Warrick certainly had no reason to like her. She had been called in from San Francisco to investigate him. He still carried some animosity towards her, even after 3 years, and she didn't fault him for that, but she thought that they had worked towards a guarded toleration of each other. He had invited her to clubs where he was deejaying.but now those invitations didn't come anymore. Not like before.  
  
And she knew for a fact that Catherine thought nothing of her. Hell, she had virtually accused Sara of Eddie's death. She had told Sara that it was only because of Grissom that she was there and that she was basically useless as a CSI. "No Catherine, tell us how you really feel." She probably felt as though Sara was honing in on her territory. Everyone always said that females were territorial. And, maybe, Catherine had latent feelings for Grissom and looked at Sara as a threat. Whatever the reason, it wasn't as though they had ever been overly friendly and schedule lunch dates and shopping sprees. At least Catherine had been semi-civil, before.  
  
Before the explosion and before she had pulled her gun on a suspect. Maybe they had finally realized how unstable she had become. The explosion had affected her more than she liked to admit, leaving her emotionally drained and mentally tired. She hadn't slept more than an hour or two each night and hadn't really been able to eat since. Her eyes had developed those dark circles that were associated with sleep deprivation and her skin was the same ghostly pallor as the bodies she saw in the morgue. She was sure that some psychologist or psychiatrist would diagnosis her as clinically depressed or with post traumatic stress syndrome, but, dammit, she had a right to be. Sorry if she had let something like almost getting killed wreck everyone's good time.  
  
What Sara didn't realize is was how wrong she really was.  
  
Nick, Warrick and Catherine were dealing with the explosion in their own ways, but they were just as concerned with Sara as they had always been. Maybe even more. She wasn't just a co-worker or a friend. She was family.  
  
"Sara?"  
  
Catherine Willows, the only other female on the graveyard shift, called out to Sara. She walked up beside her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She was worried about her. "God," she thought to herself, "she looks rough. She hasn't been sleeping and she sure hasn't been eating."  
  
Sara turned with a start, jerking her shoulder out from under the comforting hand. "You could at least tell someone when you're going to sneak up on them," she snapped and turned back towards the one-way glass.  
  
But not before Catherine had seen the tear streaks that marred her face. She let her eyes follow Sara's gaze and saw what made her friend cry. Grissom. As much as she wanted to shake some sense into the both of them, Catherine knew that this was neither the time nor the place. "I did, but apparently you didn't hear me. Everything okay?"  
  
Sara turned to look at her, not knowing what to say. Did she tell Catherine the truth or lie. She would lie.  
  
"Yeah, I, um.I have some work I have to do." She turned and walked away, hurrying along the sterile glass and fluorescent hallway.  
  
Catherine watched as she scurried away, looking as though she couldn't walk fast enough and silently cursed the man that sat in the next room.  
  
He felt defeated.  
  
This case had bothered him, he was reluctant to admit. Seeing that body there, looking so much like Sara. It had shaken him to the core and had made him reexamine feelings he thought he had been successful in pushing away.  
  
He didn't know what to this, this attraction he felt for her, this need. He hadn't felt this way in a long time and it scared him, to say the least. He had tried to rationalize it, saying that she was just infatuated with him, that it was just a crush. He tried to push her away, tried to get her to think about other things, other people. And as much as it hurt him, he wanted her to be happy, even though he thought that that happiness would come with someone else. It was just that every time he thought of her, his heart ached and his pulse increased and his breathing became labored. He had it bad.worse than bad.he was long gone. He knew that and it scared the living daylights out of him, so, he began building walls. Besides, she deserved so much better than he could give.  
  
What did he say to her? Maybe that was why he hadn't talked to her lately. Why he had paired himself with anyone but her. He just didn't know what to say, or how to say it. His people skills left a lot to be desired. He just didn't understand the human race all that much. Bugs, he knew. Bugs were predictable, bugs were easy, bugs were safe. People were.well, they weren't any of those. People were just plain scary. Maybe that was why he spent so much time with his bugs and not that much with the people that worked with him. True, he did occasionally have breakfast with the crew, very occasionally, but he did interact. He didn't spend every non-working hour holed up in his townhouse working genius level crossword puzzles and watching the Discovery Channel like Catherine had once accused him of.  
  
And Sara certainly wasn't Catherine. Catherine, he could talk to. Catherine didn't intimidate him, didn't make him feel like he was sixteen all over again. Sara on the other hand.she made him feel.well, she just made him feel.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
He didn't budge.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
James Brass stood just in the corner of the interrogation room, watching the man he called friend. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Grissom never admitted to anything close to emotions to anyone, and especially not to a suspect.  
  
"You okay?" Grissom looked like a disaster victim, starring out into space and not connecting with what was going on around him.  
  
"Grissom, you okay?" Brass asked again.  
  
His mind played and replayed the interrogation; he didn't hear Brass asking if he was okay. Hell, he didn't hear anything. He had just confessed to a suspect that he "cared about" someone. And Brass was a good enough detective to understand the underlying meaning in his words, and who that someone was.  
  
Brass waved his hand in front of Grissom's face, trying to get his attention. Catherine chose that moment to walk into the room. Brass looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what to do, seeing his friend like this wasn't good.  
  
"Hey Jim, everything going okay?" Catherine asked.  
  
Jim turned to her and shook his head slowly. No. He nodded his head towards Grissom.  
  
Catherine looked at her supervisor and saw what he meant for herself. Grissom was a broken man and that hurt her, just as much as it hurt Brass. She needed to make him realize what he was doing to himself and to Sara.  
  
"Hey, you, wake up in there," she waved her hand in front of Grissom's face.  
  
That was enough to make him pull himself out to his self-imposed hole of despair. "What?" Grissom looked up at her and wondered just how much she knew. Knowing Catherine, she knew everything and would let him talk to her in his own time. They were good friends that way, knowing when to talk to one another and when to leave one another alone.  
  
"Just wondering if you were okay?"  
  
"I'm fine, why is everyone asking me that?"  
  
"Okay, sorry, just don't bit my head off.you just looked like you were miles from here, that's all."  
  
"It just makes me mad when we know that guy is guilty and we can't touch him."  
  
"Is that all? Sara looked a little rattled, too."  
  
"Sara?"  
  
"Yeah, saw her outside the room. I guess she got freaked out when she was printing the girl. Said she hadn't seen her face, but if you ask me, she did. Scared her."  
  
"She did look an awful lot like Sara, didn't she?" Brass said.  
  
"Yeah, freaked me out too, the first time I saw her. I'm just glad that you had the peace of mind to keep Sara away from the crime scene, Gris. Imagine Sara seeing her doppelganger in that shower." Not that it was better than a morgue slab.  
  
"Huh? You said you saw Sara outside the room. When?"  
  
"Few minutes ago. Why?"  
  
Grissom let the professional mask fall over his face.she had heard. What did he do now? She knew, she had to. And she now knew that he had been pushing her away, not wanting her close because he didn't know what to do about this, whatever this was.  
  
"No reason. We're finished here. I'll be in my office, if anyone wants me. Catherine, I'll see you tonight." Grissom lifted himself out of the chair and walked out of the room, leaving Brass and Catherine to just look at each other.  
  
Catherine decided that she would do something and she would do it tonight.  
  
TBC 


	2. If All Else Fails, Quote Shakespeare

Author's Note: The lyrics are from "Heaven Help Me" by Wynonna. One of the perfect Valentine's Day songs if I ever heard one. And as ever, thank heaven for my beautiful beta readers...Ash and Anne. Thanks you two for everything.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Grissom sat in his darkened office, glasses on, listening to soft music in the background. As much as he hated doing it, he was reading files, not comprehending a single word on the pages before him.  
  
She knew.  
  
That simple fact changed everything. He had been battling with himself for months, ever since he had been forced to take time off for surgery. Time off gave him time to think about things other than work. About her. About this.  
  
He knew how he felt, how he had felt for a while now. He was scared. He didn't open up easily and he didn't express emotions all that well. He had had relationships before, he wasn't some kind of animal, but all had failed miserably. He had even gone so far as to propose marriage to Adrianna. She was the first and only woman, besides his mother, that he had ever said "I love you" to. They had shared some of the same interests and she had made him pull his head out of the ant farm long enough to see something besides beetles. But in the end, it just wasn't enough.  
  
The ring had cost him three month's salary, that being the standard, and he had been eager to present it to her. A classic movie and a late dinner had been the plan and when the time was right, he had "popped" the question.  
  
And Adrianna had laughed. Laughed right in his face and then promptly explained to him that he was only good for the occasional date and just wasn't marriage material. That had hurt bad enough, but it was nothing compared to what she said next. She had been seeing his friend, Declan Collins, and she was in love with him, instead. That had killed him. "Sorry for leading you on, old chap."  
  
He had left her there, sitting at the table, the soft candle light flickering, laughing. He stepped out into the rain that had began to fall, soft and cleansing, washing the hurt away, and decided that he would never go through that again. So he had walled up his heart, closed himself off, made his career his life, not made many personal attachments and had bonded more with bugs than with people.  
  
He was alone and that had been just fine.  
  
Until Sara had come along.  
  
She filled his thoughts so often that he could barely remember a time when she wasn't there. He still focused on work, when needed, but she was there in the background, smiling at him. She filled his dreams, with visions of lovemaking that were gentle and soft and left him wanting more.  
  
He had paired himself with her as often as he had been able. Not just because she was good, she was, but so that he could watch her. So he could hear her voice. See her face. Smell the scent that was Sara. He would get close to her sometimes, on the pretense to look at a piece of evidence and feel the heat radiating off of her and simply want to bask in it. She was smart, beautiful and young. Sara wasn't afraid to let people know what she thought, or how she felt. And she didn't care what people thought of her.  
  
He found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Like a parched man to water.  
  
He could get lost in her.  
  
Once again, he thought to himself, he had it bad. Bad enough to know that he didn't know what to do about this and bad enough to know that he wouldn't know what to do without this. He had to do something now that she knew. The explosion had made her reveal her feelings and he admired her for that. She was so much stronger than he was. Even though he felt the same, he had told her no when she asked him for the date. He had run, not strong enough to take the next step. While recovering from the surgery, he had thought of the fact that he had almost lost her. And here he was again, looking that fact in the eyes.  
  
But seeing Debbie's lifeless body in that shower, looking very much like the woman he loved, made him remember how short life was and intangible time really is. Maybe this case had been the proverbial kick in the pants that he needed. She knew and that brought everything to the forefront. What would he be like in five years, in ten, if he did nothing? Probably not much different that he was now, alone, only older. But if he did say something? What then? He had to do something. If he did nothing, he would lose her and that was not an option.  
  
He pulled his glasses off and closed his eyes, laying his head on the back of the chair, listening to the music, thinking.  
  
I could lose my vision My eyes no longer see I could lose my religion In my struggle to believe That would be a loss That would be a cross But somehow rise above But heaven help me If I ever lose your love  
  
I've traded my innocence For the secrets of the night Felt my calloused conscience Lose its grip on wrong and right It cut me to the bone Somehow I've held on Cause I could feel your touch But Heaven help me If I ever lose you love  
  
Cause you are the One Light That shines on me And without your love God knows where I'd be Lost without a prayer Somewhere way out there My soul would turn to dust And Heaven help me If I ever lose your love  
  
So hold me close again Tell me it won't end And that will be enough Heaven help me If I ever lose your love  
  
"Nice song," Catherine stood in the doorway, her shadow cutting the light coming from the hallway. "Didn't figure you for a love song kind of guy, though."  
  
Grissom's head sprang up from the back of the chair and he opened his eyes, seeing her in the doorway. "I'm not," he stated, mildly irritated at the disruption. "Contemporary popular music is nothing more than sub-standard poetry set to music. I very seldom listen to the words...just background music. Helps me think." Grissom placed his glasses back on and looked over the top of them at Catherine. Usually that look was enough to intimidate everyone, but Catherine Willows was not everyone. She was the closest thing to a best friend Grissom had and she was a woman on a mission.  
  
"Well, maybe you should have listened to that one. You could paraphrase it when you tell her," she slipped the statement in, entering Grissom's inner sanctum. "Mind if I sit down," she sat without waiting for a response.  
  
"Tell who what?"  
  
Now that the subject was out in the open, she could forge ahead with her plan. "You can play stupid with everyone else but not me, Gil. I heard about your little confession to Dr. Lurie. Everyone knows how you feel about Sara."  
  
"Everyone" he said around the lump in his throat.  
  
"Okay, everyone except Sara. And she's the one person who needs to hear it from you, not the rumor mill."  
  
He bowed his head, and so Catherine had to strain to hear him. "I can't."  
  
"Can't or won't?"  
  
"Can't," he whispered. "I can't tell her, Cath. I don't have the words. I just don't know what to say." His voice was tinged with the frustration that he felt.  
  
"And so you're going to continue to live in that prison you've created for the next God knows how many years because you don't know what to say? You're going to let Sara suffer like she had been just because you don't know what to say?" She wanted to reach across the desk and slap some sense into him. He needed it, he was just killing himself and Sara this way and Catherine knew that it would take a good swift kick to get him to do anything. "I knew you were scared, Gil, but I didn't know you were a selfish bastard."  
  
Grissom flinched at the woman sitting in front of him. He knew that he deserved every word that Catherine was saying, he had said them to himself often enough. "I guess I deserve that one."  
  
"Damn right you do. Have you ever stopped to consider what your running is doing to Sara? Have you really taken a look at her, lately? She's not looking good," her voice tinged in concern. "You almost lost her, pal. You keep this up and one day, you'll look up from that microscope and she won't be here."  
  
"I know. Don't you think that I have been thinking about that for awhile," he bit off. He was starting to get a little angry at Catherine. She had no right to tell him how to handle his emotions. He had been doing okay for a long time, now. He had an interesting job that he enjoyed and was successful at. He had a nice, but empty, home. But all in all, those were material things. And material things didn't keep you warm at night and smile at you with a radiance that rivaled the suns.  
  
Okay, he admitted, he hadn't. He had failed miserably in the emotion handling department and he realized that it wasn't Catherine that he was angry at, it was himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite off your head; I just don't know what to do. I feel so helpless when it comes to her, Cath. She deserves so much better than I could ever give her."  
  
"Don't sell yourself so short. We all deserve better but it's you that she wants. That's all that counts. And I am going to assume that you want her. You don't need anything else in life, Gris, than that. Now, get out of here and tell her. If all else fails, quote Shakespeare," she winked at him as she left the room.  
  
"Thanks," he voiced to the empty room, closing his eyes and gearing up for the confrontation that he had been avoiding.  
  
Tonight he would tell her.  
  
But like everything else, life doesn't adhere to schedules.  
  
TBC 


	3. Red in Morn, Sailor be Warned

Author's Note: As always, this is for my husband, Terry. Thank you, HunnyBun, for believing in me and my writing. And a heartfelt thanks to my beta readers, Ash and Anne. Thanks you two. Geek love rules.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Sara sat on the bench in front of the grey, cold steel lockers, just starring into space. This was the first night since finding out about Grissom's feelings. She was bone tired. She hadn't slept again last night, tossing and turning. It wasn't the nightmares that had kept sleep from her door but the words that she had heard. Words that she had thought about and thought about.  
  
"I couldn't do it."  
  
What did it mean? She had been trained to question everything, to look beyond the surface and see the underlying substance. So, what did his statement mean? Did it mean that he couldn't do it now, but give him some time, five or ten years, and he may be able to do it then? Did it mean that he couldn't do it now and he would never be able to do it? God, this was frustrating.  
  
Frustrating to the point of tears, but Sara Sidle had no more tears left. Not that she had many to begin with. She just wasn't one to boo-hoo through life, even is she was alone in all of this. Alone to face the months of nightmares after the explosion, alone to face the looks from Nick after pulling her gun on that suspect, alone to face the fear of dying after seeing her twin, Debbie Marlin, on a stainless steel slab. And she was alone to face the heartache of loving Grissom. Not that anyone but her knew of it. She hadn't told anyone and she doubted that he had said anything.  
  
She had been alone in dealing with so many feelings and emotions for so long that eventually, she couldn't help but cry.  
  
And that was how Nick and Warrick found her when they were walking in that evening.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~GnS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nick and Warrick walked shoulder to shoulder, discussing last week's basketball game. They weren't really paying any attention to their surrounding, they saw this hallway everyday.  
  
"Hey, I've got tickets to tomorrow's UNLV game. You interested?" Nick asked.  
  
"Wish I could, Nick, but can't. Unlike you, some of us have to work for a living. How did you manage to get the evening off, anyway?"  
  
"Perk of the promotion. Extra evening off every month."  
  
"Sweet. I forgot about that. Sorry Nick, but you enjoy. Why don't you ask Sara to go?"  
  
"Man, I would, but she hasn't talked to me in awhile. Not since the explosion, anyway. She's kind of withdrawn, lately. I guess I haven't been much of a friend, though. She scared me after she pulled on that suspect. It was almost like she was on autopilot. Like it wasn't even Sara in that room. That's not her, War. I started to worry about her after but she just pulled away. Didn't call me and every time I tried to talk to her, she changed the subject. Not that I tried very hard. I always found something else to do. I just don't know what to do."  
  
"She has to want our help, Nick. If we try to get her to open up, she could just pull further and further away. Know what you mean about her pushing us away. She hasn't gone out to breakfast with us in awhile. But I guess you and I are partly to blame for that one. We just haven't been asking her. We've been dealing with the explosion and everything in our own way." Warrick shrugged his shoulders, not really knowing what else to say. He knew that Nick felt guilty for not being there for their friend and he had to admit, he felt it too. "Maybe, if we both talk to her, maybe we can start to mend some to the distance between us."  
  
Nick couldn't help but smile at Warrick. He sounded like one of those afternoon talk shows that his mother enjoyed watching. "You been watching Oprah again?"  
  
"Naw, Dr. Phil," Warrick deadpanned, "either way, we still need to be better friends. How about breakfast, after shift? Sara's been looking like she could use some food in her. And then we take her home and put her to bed. It's not like I haven't noticed how tired and pale she's been looking."  
  
"You're on, now let's go find our girl," Nick said as they walked further into the corridor. And the further they walked down the hall, the closer they go to Sara. And the closer they got to Sara, the more they were able to see her crying.  
  
"Oh man, it's worse than I thought," Nick went to sit beside Sara and Warrick went to the other side. Between them, the woman they cared about cried.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~GnS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nick placed his arm around Sara, "What's wrong, Sar?" He hated seeing her like this, but this was new. Sara Sidle didn't cry. Did she?  
  
Sara resisted the urge to shrug it off. She really didn't feel like dealing with anyone today. Or any day for that matter. Not anymore. They had had their chance. But snubbing Nick and Warrick would be cruel and she couldn't do that. Sara Sidle might be a lot of things, but cruel was not one of them. She wiped her eyes and plastered a smile on her face and looked at the man beside her. "Nothing" "This isn't nothing. Sara, something has been bothering you for awhile. Talk to us."  
  
"I said nothing is wrong, okay. I'm fine."  
  
Nick and Warrick looked at each other, not knowing what to do or what to say. Nick wanted to press the subject, wanted to get her to talk, to open up. Warrick just shook his head, not letting Sara see but letting Nick know not to push her.  
  
"Okay, but Warrick and I need to talk to you."  
  
"What's up?" Sara was again the composed girl they knew. She was good at hiding her feelings; she had been doing it long enough.  
  
"You know."  
  
That was cryptic. "I know what?"  
  
"You know, Sar, we want to apologize."  
  
She hadn't been expecting that one. "Apologize for what?"  
  
Nick looked everywhere but at Sara, "For being butts. I should have realized that the explosion was rough on you. I should have been a better friend. Guess everyone around here takes for granted the notion that you're tough as nails and nothing can affect you. Me included and that's not right. I'm sorry and I know that Warrick is too. Forgive us?" He gave her the goofiest look he could manage, one that she couldn't help but laugh at. A little levity was called for.  
  
She turned to look at Warrick.  
  
"Me too. I guess I haven't been the best of friends lately, huh? We've been worried about you, but we just didn't know what to say. And you haven't been making it all that easy, you know."  
  
"Me?" Sara just looked at both of them, not knowing what had brought this on. Not that she really wanted to know. Right now it was enough that the two guys she cared about almost as much as she cared about Grissom were talking to her again. Not that she particularly cared to talk to them. She just wanted to be left alone for awhile. "Look, you two, I appreciate the apology and everything but I'm okay. I'm fine. Really. I'll be out in a minute; I just need a little time."  
  
"Are you sure?" Nick questioned.  
  
"Don't push it, Nicky. I love you guys but I just need some time."  
  
"I just wanted to . . . "Nick started, but Warrick interrupted him before he could finish.  
  
"You know, I seem to recall that you and I had a rematch pending on baseball, didn't we, Nick?" He gave Nick one of those looks that said don't argue with me on this. "Sar, girl, we'll see you in the break room, okay?"  
  
Nick caught on quickly, "Yeah, right, I owe you a whipping. We'll see you when you're ready."  
  
And with that, the two men left her, allowing her the opportunity to think and reflect.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~GnS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sara was sure that if she sat and analyzed what had just happened, she would understand it.  
  
Five minutes later, as she left the break room, she decided that she was okay with Nicky and Warrick. She didn't know what had prompted the apology, but she was glad that it had. It wasn't as if she were just up and forgiving them across the board. She still needed time for that, but as least someone was reaching out to her. It was a start. Time would be needed to heal all of the wounds. Now there was only Catherine and Grissom. And Sara thought, "I'll probably be worm food before that ever happens. Hey, maybe then Grissom would be interested, strictly from an entomological standpoint, of course."  
  
Work turned out to be anything but challenging that evening. Sara would have preferred to throw herself into her work and use it to help her with the tumbling emotions she was dealing with. The only problem with that plan was that the city of Las Vegas wasn't co-operating very much. Nothing was waiting for them when they arrived in the break room for assignments, including Grissom. Nick and Warrick went in search of evidence to process and Sara proceeded to catch up on paperwork that she had been avoiding. That was one aspect of the job she hated, paperwork. Made her like Grissom in that aspect. Not that she thought much about it.  
  
Five hours into the shift and still no Grissom. Sara had finished her paperwork and was sitting on the couch in the break room, reading this month's issue of Forensics Journal America when Nick and Warrick walked in.  
  
"Hey Sar, care to ref the semi-monthly championship game of paper ball?"  
  
"No thanks, Nick. Just wanted to finish this journal."  
  
"Kay, you ready to go down, War?"  
  
"Man, you are on."  
  
An hour later, Warrick and Nick were still at it when Catherine walked into the break room.  
  
"Hey, who's winning?" she asked Sara.  
  
"Right now, Nicky is ahead, but Warrick has been pulling out some nasty three pointers."  
  
That's my boy. "Anyone seen Grissom tonight?"  
  
"Not since beginning of shift, why?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Catherine states, sounding cryptic. "Told me earlier that there was something that he wanted to talk to someone about, but he didn't say who or what."  
  
"Well, I haven't seen him since he told us that nothing new had come in. Not that he wants to see me anyway."  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't say that."  
  
Sara just sat there, not knowing what to say to Catherine. Why was everyone, excluding Grissom, suddenly apologizing and acting nice? Not that Catherine had actually apologized. Catherine Willows was the type of person that could be at your throat one minute and your best friend the next, an apology naturally inferred. But Sara really didn't care why War and Nicky were back to being her friend, just that they were.  
  
Being alone sucked.  
  
The sounds of the paper ball game across the room were becoming loud.  
  
"Hey, that was a foul, man."  
  
"I didn't foul you; you just can't shoot worth a damn." Nick gave Warrick a mischievous grin.  
  
"Can too."  
  
"Can not."  
  
"Oh, you're going down now."  
  
Both Catherine and Sara looked at Warrick and Nick and started to laugh. "Boys, boys," Catherine stood up, holding her arms out, "no foul, okay." Always the mediator, always the mother.  
  
Sara glanced at them, smiled, looked at the clock, "only three more hours of this stuff to go," and turned away to see Grissom walking down the hall towards the break room. Her heart skipped a beat or two, just as it always did when she saw the man who held her heart. As much as she fought it, her body would inevitably give her away.  
  
And she didn't want to talk to him, didn't want him to talk to her. She wouldn't know what to say and she was sure that he wouldn't have anything to say to her. Best to leave things as they were and just avoid it. Besides, she had decided that she would leave the next move up to him. She turned her attention back to her journal.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~GnS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Grissom stopped in the doorway and took in the scene before him. Warrick and Nick seemed to be in the midst of a debate over the exact position of the free-throw line in their semi-monthly paper ball championship. Catherine was in her position as referee, as always. And Sara, well, Sara was busy with her head in a book, reading and not paying any attention to what was going on around her, let alone looking in his direction.  
  
He didn't blame her. He knew that she knew. And he had done nothing about it all night. He had been meaning to tell her, to talk to her, all evening but one thing or another had come up and he had been pulled in one direction after another. Paperwork and supervision didn't make finding time to talk about your feelings easy.  
  
"Sorry to break up the party, but we have a case. Early sunrise hiker found at least one dead body in the desert." he read off of the paper he held in his hand, looking at the group over the top of his glasses.  
  
"Must have been a real early sunrise hiker. Sun doesn't come up for another half hour." Catherine looked at her watch.  
  
"Seems that she and her boyfriend like to get out and hike before the sun gets too high. You know, beat the heat."  
  
"Okay, War, you and Nicky are with me. I'm driving." Catherine gave Grissom a nod and stood up. Here was his chance. She was giving him the opportunity and he had damn well better take it. "We'll meet you there." She grabbed the paper out of his hand and left the break room, pulling Warrick and Nick with her.  
  
"Um, you're with me, I guess, Sara." He looked positively uncomfortable, standing there, waiting for Sara.  
  
Great, stuck in a car for who knows how long with someone who so obviously doesn't want to be around you. "I'll go get my kit," Sara stated as she put the journal on the table and stood up. She had to get out the room before he said anything. As much as she wanted some sort of resolution to this thing between them, she wasn't about to force the issue.  
  
"Um, okay, I'll wait for you," he replied, wanting to prolong the time they were alone. Thank you, Catherine. He might be uncomfortable, not knowing what to say or how to act, but they were alone and he could at least bask in her presence, if nothing else. God, she made him feel 16 all over again, so unsure of himself.  
  
"That's okay, I'll meet you in the car," she said as she approached the doorway. She angled her body so that she could slip past him.  
  
He knew that he should have been a gentleman and step back out into the corridor and let her by. But he didn't. She squeezed past him, her arms brushing his as she passed.  
  
Just a whisper of a touch, but powerful enough so that they were both left breathless by it.  
  
She stopped and looked at him, a mixture of sadness and longing in her eyes. He wanted to say something, but couldn't seem to form any coherent words. His mouth opened and closed with a sigh. Sara looked away and hurried towards the locker room.  
  
He watched her as she walked down the hallway, away from him and hoped that the action wasn't a precursor of things to come.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~GnS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Grissom stood by the open driver's side door to the dark Denali that stood in the parking lot, waiting for Sara to appear. He didn't have to wait long.  
  
She opened the door to headquarters and started to walk down the walkway, carrying her field kit. God she's beautiful, Grissom thought to himself, as he watched her in the eerie half-light of the morning.  
  
"She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes." Nobody said it better than Lord Byron. If he couldn't find the words himself, he would use someone else's.  
  
"You ready?" Sara asked as she opened the door to the back seat of the SUV and stowed her field kit. Closing the door, she looked at Grissom, who was just standing there and repeated herself, "you ready?"  
  
"Wha, huh, oh, yeah," Grissom stuttered. God, he was acting like a love sick teenager. Not that he wasn't, a teenager that was and he wasn't lovesick for that matter either, but Sara Sidle had that effect on him. Either way, his inability to form coherent words around her lately was one of the reasons he had been avoiding her. That and he was running scared. Well, no more running.  
  
Grissom climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. Mind numbing thoughts raced through his mind as he pulled the Denali out into traffic. Alone with Sara for awhile. What to talk about? He could just blurt it out. Sara, I love you. I've loved you for so long and have just been running. That would be great. Profess his undying love to her and then tell her that he had been running. Sara, I hope I'm not too late. I love you. That sounded better. Where was Shakespeare when you needed him?  
  
Sara just starred at the road, not wanting to look over at the man driving. Alone with Gil Grissom for awhile. What to talk about? I know about the confession. I know that you have feelings. Too early for that. Or rather, too late. It was up to him.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you about something. I, uh, I need to know if," he couldn't get out the words. "I wanted to know if you wanted," he just let the words hang there.  
  
"What, Grissom? If I wanted what?" Did she dare hope?  
  
"If you wanted to, to, listen to the radio." He groaned inside. His chance and he couldn't take it. Catherine would kill him if she knew. He just wouldn't tell her.  
  
He didn't even have the nerve to talk to her when they were alone. Fine. Let him stew for awhile "No. I just want to enjoy the silence, if you don't mind. So you don't have to worry about trying to make small talk. Concentrate on the road." Was she that gruesome and unattractive that he couldn't even find the stomach to talk to her? She would beg and plead to ride back with Catherine and the guys. Anything to be away from him.  
  
If that wasn't a blow off, he didn't know what was. He had screwed up, royally. "I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say to you, you know. What happened to us, Sara?"  
  
"Nothing happened to us. Whatever it was, happened to you. I really don't feel like talking about this just now. The sun's coming up, just let me enjoy the sunrise, okay."  
  
The first rays of the approaching sun were filtering over the horizon, throwing the rolling desert hills into a warm pink glow. The sky was filled with rich pinks and oranges and even a hint of deep purple. But the most brilliant of all of the colors was the reds. Grissom looked out the windshield and marveled at the dawn of a new day.  
  
"Red at night, sailor's delight. Red in morn, sailor be warned."  
  
"What? Some obscure Shakespeare quote?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, no, just an old wives tale. Sorry to interrupt your enjoyment."  
  
Little did Grissom know how prophetic his words would be.  
  
TBC 


	4. Allusions of Heaven's Gate

**_Author's Note:_** I hope that I don't offend anyone with the subject matter of this chapter. I neither condone nor discourage the things mentioned in here. I simply felt that this might be something our team might encounter and chose to use it as such. I have to thank my Betas, Moongirl and Smry, for their wonderful insights and painless critique of this long awaited chapter. I know that it has been awhile and I promise to get the next chapter out sooner...I hope. And finally, to my husband, Terry, who is my own personal Grissom...thank you for everything.

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Allusions of Heaven's Gate**_

The morning air was just as chilly as the atmosphere in the Denali when Grissom and Sara arrived at the crime scene. After his little attempt at conversation, the silence had been deafening.

And the drive long.

Grissom had never looked forward to arriving at a scene. Today, however, he would say that he was relieved to be there. He knew the animosity that Sara directed towards him was his own fault. He didn't blame her for feeling the way she did, but did she have to give him the cold shoulder the entire trip? God, she was stubborn. That could be both good and bad, depending on which side of her feelings you happened to be on the time.

Pulling up to the small parking area near the scene, he had barely turned off the ignition before Sara had her door opened and was out of the SUV. He got out just as Brass walked over to them. "What've we got, Jim?"

"Hiker and her boyfriend decided to take a sunrise walk to Mount DeHostis. You know, beat the heat and everything. Decided against it and took the loop trail instead. Guess she didn't think to bring a flashlight, though. Stumbled over what she thought was a log or something. That was until she got a closer look. Found body number one."

"Number one? How many are we looking at?" Grissom asked, not knowing if he really wanted to hear the answer.

"Last count, 8. And that's not all. It looks like all of them are kids. Teenagers are my guess. Not the least of it, thought. We may have a satanic or cult killing here."

"What?" Grissom asked, a little incredulous.

Brass switched into briefing mode. "Seems like all of our vics are dressed alike. Black hooded sweat suits and high top sneakers. Oh, yeah, and the large pentagram made of stones on the ground in the middle of them kinda gave it away."

Just as Brass finished his recitation, the rest of Grissom's team arrived.

Grissom knew that this one would be tough. Call it a gut instinct. Kids were always hard to deal with. But, he also knew he had one of the best teams in the nation. They would do their respective jobs and not let emotions cloud any of their judgments. At least not while they were working the case. Feelings would come later; in private where they could battle the monsters they faced everyday. "Okay, this is just another scene."

Everyone nodded in the affirmative.

Brass interrupted, "We may also have a spectator. Uniforms found a smoldering fire about 500 feet in behind some boulders. Main scene's about 1500 feet in, down the ravine."

"Alright, Catherine, you and Sara work the perimeter, 2000 feet radius. Warrick, you and Nick are with me," Grissom directed his crew. He turned his attention back to Brass, "Jim, has David arrived yet?"

"No"

"See if you can get a hold of him and let him know that he's going to need some help out here. Have you started interviewing our hiker?"

"Already on it. I've got the new detective, Wayne Phillips, interviewing her."

"Okay, then, let's get to work," Grissom charged and moved to start walking to the scene. He was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned and looked straight into the eyes of Catherine.

"You wanna tell me why you have me and Sara working the perimeter?" She said in a huff. Indignation was evident on her face.

"I just thought that you and Sara would be better on that. Once you get done, you and Sara can join us, I'm sure that we'll still be working the main scene," Grissom offered.

"It's just that we could get some of day shift to do the perimeter. Or at least some cadets," Catherine interjected.

"This is our scene, not day shifts and besides, since when do you question my choice of assignments, Catherine? If we need additional eyes, I'll call in the cadets. But not until we absolutely need it. Understand? The more people we have mucking around, the greater the chance of contamination. I won't risk that with this case. The sooner we get started on this scene, the sooner we can start finding out who and why. Okay."

"We'll talk about this later."

"I'm sure we will," he replied and turned and walked down the ravine.

GnS

30 minutes later, Sara stood up from the crouching position she had been in. Dropping the camera so that it hung around her neck, she swung her baseball cap back around to shade her eyes and looked towards Catherine, "That footprint that we found ought to be set by now. It was a good thing the ground's soft up here or we never would have been able to mold it."

Catherine turned towards the other woman. "Huh?" she replied, lost in her own thoughts. She'd been watching the remainder of the team work the main scene, silently stewing over the fact that she had been put in her place by Grissom.

Sara just let Catherine's gruffness wash past her. "You know, footprint, soft ground, mold," she gestured towards the off-white circular mass of dental stone.

Catherine allowed her gaze to follow Sara's extended hand. "Oh that, yeah. Good thing." She returned to watching the remainder of the group. That was where she belonged, down where the action was at. She was a senior CSI, for christ sake, not some newbie, fresh out of the lab. "Damn, we should be down there, helping out. This is just where some teenagers got a little cozy away from Mommy and Daddy."

"We don't know that, Catherine, and we won't until we process all of the evidence," Sara said, hiding her disgust with the older woman. Working a scene didn't seem good enough for Catherine, unless it was a high profile case, unless it was one that would further her career. "We'll be down there in a few minutes and then we can help. Right now, this is where we need to be."

"You're starting to sound like Grissom now. He start rubbing off on you, huh? That must have been some conversation on the ride out here," sarcasm dripped from Catherine's voice.

Her irritation with the blond woman finally got the best of her, "You don't need to be such a bitch, Catherine. We've only been up here a half hour. There are8 bodies down there. And they'll still be there 10 minutes from now," Sara charged, her face blushed with anger and frustration. Catherine's whole diva act was getting old, fast. "I don't sound like Grissom. Just because I happen to care about this case and not whether or not it will help my career does not make me an unemotional, uncaring automaton."

"Okay, okay, Wonder Woman. Sorry I came across as diva-like. I care about this case just as much as you, I just hate it when Mr. Gil Grissom, forensics god, thinks that the case is something that poor little women can't handle," Catherine said in way of apology.

Sara had turned back to the footprint mold and began to carefully lift the dental stone fixture up. "If that's your version of an apology, I accept," she threw over her shoulder. Turning, she displayed the mold to Catherine. "Perfect," she said while flashing one of her rare smiles.

"Perfect," Catherine exclaimed while viewing the object. "Now, let's pack up and get down there. You never did say how the conversation with Grissom went, did you?

"What conversation? Mr. Roboto said all of three words to me, maybe," Sara stated.

"He did what?" Catherine whined, "I'm gonna kill that man. I told him he needed to talk to you, tell you how he feels. Hell, I told him he just needs to acknowledge the fact that he has feelings. But does that Discovery watching, puzzle doing recluse ever listen to me? I swear, if he didn't already know that you were outside the interrogation room, I'd tell him just to see his reaction."

Sara stopped in her tracks and whipped around to look at the other woman, flabbergasted. "What in the hell do you mean he knows that I was outside the interrogation room?"

He knew.

And now she knew that he knew.

Now the dance that they had been doing around each other for years would take on a whole new meaning.

"Calm down, okay. Yes, he knows that you were there. And he knows that you heard what he said to Dr. Lurie. Believe me, if he had known you were there, he would have never said a word," Catherine revealed. Her face softened as she looked at the terrified woman before her. Grissom had really done a number on her with his on-again, off-again flirting. Catherine understood that he was scared, but fear had its limits. "He doesn't know what to do, Sara. That's why he hasn't been able to express to you what he wants. How he feels."

Sara couldn't believe where this conversation was rapidly heading. "Apparently he doesn't have a problem telling complete strangers how he feels. Murder suspects, co-workers, the airhead of a clerk at Blockbuster. Seems like everyone but me."

"You want to know why that is? Why he can say stuff to others instead of you?

"I don't know if I can handle this, right now," Sara replied as she sat on a boulder, attempting to regain the somewhat fragile grasp she had on her emotions.

"I know that you've been through quite a bit lately but I think you'll be able to handle this," Catherine reassured her college.

"You have no idea what I've been through, Catherine, and I don't know how much more I can handle in this lifetime," Sara shot back in a dazed voice.

"God, you are one of the strongest people I know. I don't give out compliments very often to women. I have that whole competition thing going on," she attempted to bring some lightheartedness into the conversation, "but you are by far the strongest female person I know."

"Then you don't know very many female persons," Sara muttered under her breath.

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," Catherine remarked. "The reason our favorite bug freak can't tell you how much he feels is because you're too powerful to him."

"Excuse me, powerful?" Sara asked, baffled.

"Yup. You, my dear, have all of the power. You can hurt him if he allows it. He cares so much about you that if he ever lets you in, and something happens, he'll lose it. He's been hurt before, badly. And he doesn't want to go back there. When it all boils down, he's scared Sara."

"So he can tell you instead of me? What does he expect me to do?" Sara questioned, "I don't know how much longer I can wait for him, Catherine."

"He'll come around, eventually," Catherine offered, "I just don't know when. Besides, he didn't tell me. I figured it out. I've watched you and it's pretty evident to everyone, except him. And I've known Grissom for awhile. He can't hide much from me."

"Well, since nothing was said on the ride out here, how about we just drop it and head down to the rest of the group?" Sara said in a vain attempt to change the subject. She knew that once Catherine got it in her head about something, not much on the face of the earth could steer her away from it. She hoped that this time would be different. "Did you get some shots of the pentagram from up here?"

Catherine could take a hint. "Okay, I understand. No more Grissom-feelings talk. But don't forget what I said, Sara."

"I won't. Now can we get past this," Sara acknowledged. She so wanted to leave this topic, this area of conversation. She had never had any girlfriends in her life and had never had anyone to talk about the heartaches either. She didn't feel comfortable with it.

"Yeah," Catherine let her off the hook. The girl really needed someone to talk to, she thought, but for now, I'll let it go. "And I got those shots so let's get down there."

GnS

Grissom looked up from the body of the young woman at his feet to see Catherine and Sara approaching the main crime scene. In the hour it had taken them to process the auxiliary crime scene, the rest of the crew had managed to finish with one pair of the teenage victims.

"What have we got, boss." Catherine attempted to make up for her earlier hissy fit.

"Four pairs of bodies. One boy and one girl, each around the pentagram. So far, we've managed to process one of the couples. Each body is dressed in black sweat suits with hoods. Hoods are pulled up and tied under the chins. We've found heavy-weight plastic on their faces also."

While Grissom was running down what the rest of the team had found so far, Sara took the time to glance around the scene. "They all look like they're sleeping. Like they all just decided to lie down and take a nap."

Grissom looked her way.

"I'm not getting this, man," Nick broke in and said. "Why would four couples of kids want to off themselves like this? They should be getting ready to go to homecoming or prom or something."

Warrick felt the same. "Maybe they got involved with something that got out of control." he said as he took a picture of a cluster of candles. "Looks like a satanic ritual."

Grissom countered, "a pentagram and candles do not a ritual make." He turned his attention back to Sara. "What makes you think that they just laid down, Sara?"

Sara forced herself to look at the man who held her heart. It was getting harder and harder to be around him without letting herself wallow in self-pity. "Well, I haven't seen any signs of a struggle and they would have had to dress themselves in the sweat suits. Or did you find evidence that they didn't dress themselves?"

"No, we didn't. but then again, we've only gotten to one of the couples so far. Does this remind anyone of anything?" he asked, knowing that Sara would figure it out.

All of them looked at the three other couples, the gears turning in their minds. Sara finally spoke up, "Heaven's Gate."

"That's what I saw. The pentagram is still puzzling, though." Grissom acknowledged. Sara had confirmed what he had been thinking since they arrived. The scene reeked of being staged but like Sara had noticed, no signs of struggle could be found. "Let's see what the rest of these guys can tell us. Warrick, how about you and Catherine take the two near the uppermost point of the pentagram?"

"Okay, boss," Warrick returned and moved off towards the bodies with Catherine.

"Come on, Nicky, we'll take the ones on the left." Sara declared before Grissom was even able to say a thing. She was afraid that he would try to pair her up with him. And knowing that he knew made thingsso muchharder. She had spent the better part of four years dealing with her feelings for the man and she had finally decided that the only way she would be able to survive was to put the ball in his court. So she had.

And there it stayed.

Grissom watched with longing as Sara walked away from him, Nick trailing after her. He had planned on pairing himself with Sara in an attempt to spending time with her. He had used that ploy before and it had always worked...until now. "Um, okay. I'll finish up on this pair and then we'll meet in the middle."

GnS

Two hours later, the crew had finished processing the four pairs of victims and had gone into the center of the scene. Grissom looked at his crew, knowing what was going through their minds. What had happened here was one of the three things that made him angry. Someone had taken advantage of these kids, have gotten them to take their own lives, or at least that is where the evidence was leading him.

"Okay, David and his crew have removed the bodies so we can finish the scene. Nick, you've taken all of the pictures of the pentagram?"

"Yeah. I took up close and even managed to get a psuedo-arial. There's something odd about that pentagram, though."

"What?"

"I noticed that there are bundles of clothes at each of the points. Maybe each of the victims changed clothes here."

"Well, we'll wait and see when we get back to the lab. Let's each take a bundle of clothes to process and then head on in to the lab."

The group broke up and each approached a bundle.

As Sara crouched down to get at the pile of clothing, she reached out and grasped a corner of the cloth.

"Oh shit," she exclaimed as she peeled the corner back.

TBC


End file.
